


the in-between space

by pyrrhical



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Peter Dies, Angst, Avengers Family, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7138073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrrhical/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter lives at the Avengers Tower now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the in-between space

“Good morning, Peter.” 

Tony runs a clumsy hand over his eyes, trying and failing to rub the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Morning, Mr. Stark,” comes the predictable reply, and Tony can’t help the tiny smile that tugs at a corner of his mouth. 

“You hungry, kid?”

A controlled laugh echoes through the kitchen as Tony pulls a carton of OJ and a cup of yogurt out of the fridge. “That’s just cruel, Mr. Stark.”

Retrieving a spoon from the dishwasher, Tony fell into one of the chairs at the kitchen’s island. “Yeah, you’re right.” He takes a bite of Yoplait’s best, Mountain Blueberry. “That was cruel.”

.

The first time Tony realizes he’s alone way too often is when Cap strides into the lounge area and stops short of the couch, his super-soldier all-American gaze fixated on a small collection of empty liquor bottles.

“Tell me these aren’t all from this week already, Tony,” Steve says, his casual tone skirting on concern.

“These aren’t all from this week already, Tony,” Tony parrots back, but wraps his hands around the necks of the glass bottles and walks them to the recycling bin, back towards Steve. The bottles crash into the bin and Tony uses the loud sound to sigh, then turns back towards his guest, who hasn’t moved an inch. “I’m joking, Cap,” Tony says, and motions for Steve to take a seat. “I had some people over a few days ago, just never got around to cleaning up.”

It’s not even a good lie, both Tony and Steve know it, seeing as the rest of the floor is impeccably clean, but Steve nods and they both sit on the couch. Tony pulls out a StarkPad™, and the two begin the long process of debriefing from the last mission and making sure all the P’s and Q’s are minded in the paperwork that S.H.I.E.L.D. demands from them now. 

.

It had been a bad night. None of Tony’s usual projects had gleamed with their usual appeal, and as a result none of them successfully distracted him from the one thing he really didn’t want to think about. He had been on his third shot of whiskey in twenty minutes when an exceptionally sadistic but unusually intriguing idea struck him.

He set the shot glass down, flinching slightly at the clink that echoed through the empty suite. 

“Jarvis, pull ev’rythin’ up!”

There was a heavy pause before the artificial intelligence responded. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not positive what you mean by ‘everything’.”

“Cut the shit, Jarvis.” Tony collapsed into one of the sofas. “Pull up the holograms ‘n’ video feeds ‘n’ all that other clusterfuckery.”

There was another pause--Jesus, Tony really had to remember to make his next AI less cheeky--but the blue transparent interface appeared in front of Tony, numbers and security footage dancing in midair. 

“‘Clusterfuckery’ is not part of my programmed vernacular, sir, but I believe this is what you requested.”

“Spare me, Jarvis.” Tony played with the interface, pulling the security footage module front and center, then separating out three frequencies of the audio. “Before you go, though, give me everything you’ve got on Spider-Man.”

“Identification of footage of Peter Benjamin Parker, known alias Spider-Man, may take approximately thirty-four minutes.”

Tony shrugged, pouring another shot. 

“Works for me.”

.

“Good Lord, does America’s sweetheart never take a break?”

“Not when there are lives at stake, Tony.”

Steve leaned against the side of the counter opposite Tony, a mug of coffee nestled in between his hands. It was a rare sight, Steve actually accepting some sort of nourishment from Tony, but not rare enough to distract Tony from the fact that Captain America had been holding him hostage in Paperwork Hell for the past six hours. 

“Please, enlighten me,” Tony groaned, beginning to make his own cup o’ joe, “how innocent lives are dependent upon you and me finishing a four foot stack of legal bullshit by 6pm tonight.”

Steve smiled patiently. 

“That right there,” Tony said, pointing, “that perfect goddamn smile makes me want to slog through Legalese Mountain even less.” He rolled his eyes and measured out the coffee grounds before unceremoniously dumping them in the machine. “I bet Peter agrees with me, too.”

Steve stiffened, all traces of patience and smile dissipating instantly. “Tony, what’re you--”

“What?” Tony set down his empty mug and turned from the coffee machine to face Steve. “What did I--” Tony’s eyes widened as his brain finally replayed his words and he realized what he had said.

“Tony,” Steve said again, his voice a low warning. 

Tony held up his hands in surrender. “It slipped, alright. I know he’s gone, I just--”

“Mr. Stark,” the youthful voice managed to sound upbeat and admonishing at the same time, “your coffee's ready. Do you want me to keep it hot?”

“Shit.”

Steve stared at Tony with wide eyes, his eyes glistening as he heard Peter Parker’s voice for the first time in a year. “Tony, wha--how--,” he took a deep breath, “you changed Jarvis’s voice to...Peter’s?”

If Tony heard the break in Steve’s voice when he said Peter’s name, he ignored it. He sighed, settling into the closest open chair. “No, not exactly.” 

Tony gestured for Steve to sit, but he remained standing, posture tense and straight.

“Maybe this would be easiest,” Tony muttered, feeling the weight of Steve’s shocked and disappointed gaze. “Bug-boy, kitchen. Now.”

A pale blue glow lit Steve’s and Tony’s faces as the holographic image of Peter Parker winked into existence above the kitchen counter.

Steve gasped almost inaudibly, and Tony covered his face with his hands. He’d only used this feature once before, and the night had ended...regrettably.

A small smirk pulled at the corner of nineteen-year-old Peter Parker’s face, and the speakers throughout the house carried the pleasant voice. “Aw, dad, did I do something wrong?”

“Peter.” 

Steve couldn’t tear his gaze from the hologram; the glisten in his eyes from earlier ran in thin streaks down his face. 

“I’m so sorry, Peter, I--”

“No good,” Tony cut in, letting his hands fall away from his face but pointedly keeping his gaze from the center of the counter-top where Peter’s image flickered slightly. “After I used this function the first time, and things quickly headed towards Hysteriaville, I adjusted its--his programming. Any form of apology accompanied by what the system deems ‘heavy emotion’ doesn’t elicit a response.”

Steve was silent, still staring at the hologram. 

“Jarvis is still around,” Tony said, attempting to speak lightly. “Peter’s just here on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” 

“And the occasional Sunday,” Peter said, the dulcet tones echoing through the suite.

Steve met Tony’s eyes. “We can’t--”

Tony tiredly raised a hand. “I know,” he said.

“Honestly, Cap, I realized it was a mistake within the first week. But after hearing his voice, after having an almost genuine conversation, I just couldn’t…” Tony struggled, looking for some sort of support in Steve’s expression. “I couldn’t say goodbye to the kid all over again.”

Steve nodded. “I don’t blame you, Tony. He was a good kid.” There was a deep breath, and a soft sigh. “He didn’t deserve to go that way.”

Tony laughed mirthlessly. “You think?”

Steve shifted his weight, and rested his palms on the countertop. The blue light bathed them in a sickly glow. 

“Does anyone else know about this?”

Tony frowned, surprised. “No, of course not, I wouldn’t…” he trailed off as Steve nodded. 

“Good.” Taking a sip of coffee, he glanced up. “Peter, do you mind giving me and Tony a bit of privacy?”

Peter nodded, head bobbing as he smiled slightly. 

“Of course, Oh Captain, my Captain.” 

The hologram blinked out of existence.

Steve choked, and Tony grimaced sympathetically.

“Voice recognition’s a bitch.”

.

It’s two in the morning and Tony’s been feigning at sleep for two hours before he finally concedes, throwing the sheets off his body and stumbling out of bed. He takes care to remain somewhat silent, not wanting to disturb Steve, who is the first visitor to sleep at the Avengers tower since...Peter.

It turns out that Tony’s silence was a good idea.

He hears a faint voice from the kitchen before he realizes it’s a very, very private conversation.

“Exactly how old were you, Peter?”

There’s a pause, and Tony closes his eyes and leans against the doorframe. 

“19.”

Tony hears Steve sigh, and he can picture the soldier running his hands over his exhausted face.

“You know, I never realized until now how little I actually knew you.”

“That was my choice. None of that is on you.”

Tony breathes out. J.A.R.V.I.S. manages to surprise him plenty, even though he’s the one who wrote all the code. Tony thinks Stark Industries might be putting too much intelligence into its Artificial Intelligence systems. SM101562, “Peter”, puts J.A.R.V.I.S. to shame in the battle of surprising Tony Stark.

Purposefully adding weight to his steps, Tony walks into the kitchen. Steve looks up, deep shadows etched into his face where the harsh blue light of the AI can’t reach.

“I’m going to uninstall him...it...tomorrow morning,” Tony says, and finds he can’t say anything more, even though he knows there should be some sort of apology.

Steve nods and clears his throat. “For the best,” he agrees.

Peter doesn’t say anything. The simulation is suspended in a natural, resting expression.

“Don’t let him keep you up too late, Peter,” Tony jokes, voice strained as he leaves the kitchen.

“Technically speaking, Mr. Stark, that’s impossible.” The speakers in both the kitchen and hallway carry the response, following Tony.

As the bedroom door closes behind Tony, he can hear Steve still talking to Peter.

**Author's Note:**

> first time writing for marvel! this is loosely set in the MCU, but timelines and context are vague. still working on voices for the characters, so feedback is appreciated! kudos and comments are always loved and cherished.


End file.
